


Playing With Fire

by jungle_ride



Category: Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23876674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jungle_ride/pseuds/jungle_ride
Summary: Farah was on fire, the heat from the Dark Prince radiated on her like a furnace. His hands were rough on her skin, dark and deadly as they traced patterns down her hips and across her stomach, anywhere flesh was on show.
Relationships: Dark Prince/Farah
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9
Collections: Minigame: Round 1





	Playing With Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/gifts).



Farah was on fire, the heat from the Dark Prince radiated on her like a furnace. His hands were rough on her skin, dark and deadly as they traced patterns down her hips and across her stomach, anywhere flesh was on show. There was a tightness in her skin too, all nerves alight with discomfort and passion. It was too hot, too intense. This sicken desire Farah had for this dark monster before her gnawed at her threatening to tear her apart. He was burning her alive in more ways than one, but when Farah took an opportunity to glance down to where his fingers were clutching at her inner thigh there were no blisters or marks appearing, not even the slightest trace of redness. Her skin remained immaculate.

“Worried.” He whispered, voice rough against the shell of her ear causing a shiver to run down her spine. He sounded hopeful, as if the thought of her fear was more desirable than her open willingness. Perhaps that was a warning in itself and yet Farah felt nothing but a thrilling tingle in the pit of her stomach. 

“No, why should I be?” She asks, drawing her bottom lip through her teeth. She made sure to ensure her eyes were wide and full of an innocence she no longer possessed, her tone of voice full of a soft sweetness that she knew would have him writhing with a desire to squash it out of her. 

“Yes.” He growled before he leaned down and claimed her neck with brutal kisses, his teeth scraping across her skin in tiny nips. 

“You don’t scare me.” As if to prove her point, Farah tilted her head to give him more access to the softer parts of flesh. 

“Don’t I?” He quipped, pulling back to study her face for a moment. Farah met his steely gaze of flaming yellow by jutting her chin out in defiance. 

One hand, ashened black and filled with the heat of molten lava ran down her cheek, it’s thumb tracing the shape of her lips before it wrapped around her throat. The dagger tail, always wrapped around his forearm when not in use, pressed against her chest in warning, its deadly spikes cold against her skin. Oddly the feel of it offered a moment of relief to the uncontrollable heat that had risen up in her body, whilst at the same time consumed her in another wave of sheer want. A juxtaposition Farah had become far too accustomed to. Dismissing the somewhat disturbing thought and its relevance to the new life she was carving out for herself, Farah swallowed, the delicate sound echoing around the abandoned throne room.

“It would be foolish of you not to fear me princess.” His lips curled upwards, more a snarl than a smile as he gave her throat one tight squeeze. Farah felt her heart skip a beat. Wetting her lips she reached upwards, grabbing onto the spikes protruding from the tops of his shoulders and using them as leverage pulled herself further against him, allowing the spikes of the dagger tail to press closer to her neck, dangerously close to drawing blood. 

“As it would be foolish of  _ you  _ to assume I’m just a wilting desert rose, Prince.” She said, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. Glancing down the dark prince noticed the arrow’s head she had retrieved and concealed in her hand, whilst he'd been distracted by the phantom taste of her lips, now pressing against his chest, right over his heart. He laughed, a deep sound sardonic in nature.

“Oh princess if you were I never would have let you live.” Having dropped his hand from around her throat he now wrapped them against her hips, fingernails digging into her skin as he lifted her from the ground. Farah gasped. Automatically she wrapped her legs around his waist, as one hand reached for the spikes in his shoulders once more, to hold her steady. 

As they moved, the arrow head she had pressed against his chest dug deeper, the dark prince leant in further to meet it’s caress, allowing it to pierce his armored skin. A small trickle of yellow sand emerged in the place of blood and dripped down onto Farah’s fingers. She watched it for a moment in fascination, feeling his flaming eyes on her all the time before pulling away and throwing the arrow head over her shoulder with a shrug. With a genuine smile she let him take her into his darkness once more. 


End file.
